


We're Writing Our Love Story (On A Desk)

by fairlylocaldreamer



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: F/M, Jebby - Freeform, and everyone already knows this, and no one can stop me, basically all my fics are jebby, i love these two so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 08:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17978120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairlylocaldreamer/pseuds/fairlylocaldreamer
Summary: Prompt: Person A and Person B write messages on the same desk in History classDebby doesn't know when they started having whole conversations on that crappy desk in history class. All she knows is that one day, she wrote "hi" on the desktop because she was bored, and the next day someone had written, "hey, what's up? :)"





	We're Writing Our Love Story (On A Desk)

Debby doesn't know when they started having whole conversations on that crappy desk in history class. All she knows is that one day, she wrote "hi" on the desktop because she was bored, and the next day someone had written, "hey, what's up? :)"

Whoever it is, they're funny. They're a little ray of sunshine in the dark thundercloud of high school, the only part of the day Debby truly looks forward to. Which is stupid, because she doesn't even know who it is. It might be someone she's never talked to, although she doesn't think that's very likely. As a theatre kid, she's kind of had to talk to majority of the student popularity while recruiting people in order to put on productions.

Their routine is pretty simple. Debby's history class is in the morning, so she'll write something and leave it. Whoever her buddy is, they have history after her, and when she gets back the next day there's always a new message. The janitors, of course, don't care about kids writing on the desks, so all their conversations have been left there. It's crossed Debby's mind that anyone else who sits in her seat could easily read all of it, but honestly, who cares? Both their identities are secret anyway.

Her and her dude have been arguing recently, about which The Killer's album is better: Hot Fuss or Day & Age. Debby is obviously right, Hot Fuss is a masterpiece that cannot be topped, but they just  _won't give up_. Debby thinks it's stupid that having an argument with an unknown person on a piece of dead wood makes her smile so much.

She misses history class one day, having gone to a doctor's appointment that morning, and as the final bell rings she weaves through the crowded hallways, heading to the history classroom to pick up any assignments she might have missed. Her teacher is rushing out the door just as she peeks into the doorway.

"Wait, Mr. Davis!"

He calls back over his shoulder, "Be right with you, Miss Ryan, nature is urgently calling!" before disappearing into the mob of students, most likely headed to the nearest bathroom.

Debby sighs, stepping into the classroom to wait for his return. There's a boy in the room, too, but Debby doesn't pay him much attention. Until she notices that he's hunched over  _her_ desk, that is.

He's scribbling in blue pen furiously, and his bright blue hair is the only part of him that Debby can really see. He finishes his message and stands up hastily, shoving his pen into his pocket and shouldering his backpack clumsily. He seems startled to see her staring at him when he finally looks up. His eyes are the prettiest mocha shade she's ever seen, and she's seen a lot of pretty mocha shades.

"Oh, uh, hey," he mumbles, and his voice is deep and rumbly yet so damn  _smooth_ at the same time. Debby thinks his handwriting suits it perfectly. "Don't tell Davis I'm writing on his desks. The janitors don't care, but uh, I don't know, don't think he'd be too happy with me, y'know?"

He blinks a couple of times, almost like he's nervous she'll rat him out when they're guilty of the same crime. He's so adorable that Debby almost laughs. She's seen him around (she's pretty sure he's one of the punk rock music kids, and isn't he friends with Tyler, the guy her friend Jenna has had a crush on for a year?) but never actually talked to him, which is a shame because he really is pretty.

"Yeah, no, I'm not here to patrol the desks. Missed class today, just wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything super important."

"Oh, yeah, cool," he says. He inches towards the door. "Well, um, have a nice afternoon, I guess."

"Yeah, you too," she replies, heading towards her desk. He frowns slightly as he watches her, but doesn't say anything.

His familiar messy scrawl stares back at Debby.  _Hey, where's my message from this morning? You sick or something? Anyway, I stand by the fact that Day & Age is The Killers' best album. You can't change my mind._

The boy is almost out the door. Debby calls out after him, "Oh, dude? I had a doctor's appointment today." He looks back over his shoulder, confused. "So that's why there was no message. And trust me, I will someday convince you that Hot Fuss is better than Day & Age. Mark my words."

As realization dawns over his (pretty) features, Mr. Davis comes bustling back in. "Mr. Dun, why are you still here? Miss Ryan, you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah, just wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything important?"

 

When Debby has gotten her homework, she leaves Davis' classroom to find the boy leaning against the wall, twirling his pen around his fingers. He straightens up when he sees her and they stare at each other for a moment before he finally reaches a hand out. "My name's Josh."

Debby hides her smile as she shakes his hand. "Debby."

There's pink covering Josh's cheeks as he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair before blurting out, "Wanna convince me that Hot Fuss is better over coffee or something sometime?"

She smiles for real, gently taking his pen and his forearm and scribbling her number on his skin. "I'd love to, dude. Text me. We can have a real conversation that's  _not_ on a crappy desk in history class."

His blush has brightened but he's smiling, and  _oh man_ Debby can totally see herself falling in love with someone like him. "Will do. Uh. Yeah. I'll text you."

If she's grinning like an idiot the whole car ride home, well, that's nobody else's business but hers.

**Author's Note:**

> yooo thanks for reading! leave kudos or comments if you want, and have a great day/night/whatever. stay street my dudes.


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